


Camboy

by hibiscuslashton



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: ?? - Freeform, Bottom Luke, Camboy Luke Hemmings, Luke has a nice ass, Luke is a Tease, Luke needs money, Lukes aSS, M/M, Mentions of Eating Disorder, Mentions of sexual activity, Needy Luke, Not Beta Read, Possible Daddy Kink, Possible smut, Top Ashton Irwin, anyways Ashton is sweet and treats Luke like a prince, but also independent Luke ?, excess talk of Luke’s Ass, hes thicc, i mean like a TEASE, im new at this stUFF this is my first fic on here, lashton au, ok sorry im done, please give feedback, these tags are a mess I’m sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-10-24 03:22:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17696702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibiscuslashton/pseuds/hibiscuslashton
Summary: Luke Hemmings is notoriously known online for being a camboy: an online "entertainer" who engages in pornographic activities to get money. In other words, he likes to show off his ass to get money for his college tuition while living in his one bedroom apartment in LA.  Sure people can think his way of getting money is interesting, but to each their own. Everything is going according to plan, that is until he meets a stranger on one of his live streams who steals his heart in the most non-romantic way possible.





	1. Chapter One

Luke Hemmings was your stereotypical twink, to put it nicely. He was pale; not too pale, like the color of honey in the summer, blonde, practically hairless and had the slightest bit of muscle. His ass was round and perky, jiggling slightly whenever he moved and his blue eyes could make anyone give in to whatever intention he had immediately. His golden curls: everyone wanted them, and everyone usually touched them, which annoyed him at first but he got used to it.

He liked to wear "feminine clothing," because fuck gender roles, he'd say. He believed in whatever made him feel most like himself. He liked how panties and skirts felt on him and made him look pretty. He liked being pretty.

Luke is a 20-year-old camboy from Australia. He shakes his ass and fucks it online to get money for his college tuition. Believe it or not, he wants to be an artist. He usually doesn't get more than 300 a day; not that he's complaining about it, but he's a little brat. A total sweetheart almost all the time, of course, but Luke wants what he wants when he wants it.

—

It's a Monday afternoon and Luke is bored. He usually has a specific day to work himself to exhaustion on camera, but he's greedy so money and attention sound like just the way to occupy himself.

He grabs his laptop and pulls up his favorite place to go to; surprise surprise, it's Tumblr. The app can be used for so many good things, but Luke mainly uses it for his job. He clicks into his account, setting the camera up and placing it on his creme color desk, a mere 5 feet away from him. He's sitting on his bed, feet resting under his ass with his knees apart, his dick half hard from jerking it already beforehand. He liked to start out naked for his viewers, not only did it give him more views, but he got even more compliments and twice the amount of money than he usually gets when he starts off wearing spandex boxers. He waits till he sees comments flooding the chat to speak.

"Hey everybody," he greets the camera with a sultry voice and a warm smile.

Instantly, swarms of comments come in praising the boy, whether it be his eyes or maybe something as dirty as how cute his dick looked. He blushed profusely at those ones.

"How's your day been, lovelies?" Luke asks, trailing his hands up and down his soft body, tweaking his nipples once in a while; he likes to have a conversation with them, keep them in. They aren't just money to him either, believe it or not. Of course, money is a big part, but some less vulgar commentators are extremely nice and take time to converse with him.

"Mine was alright, but it's so much better now that I'm here with you guys," Luke starts, licking his lips, "God, I've been so horny all day... been thinking about you guys lately... thinking about what you guys wanna do to me... how you wanna ruin me," the blond boy whines, stroking himself slowly, working himself up. He doesn't want to cum too fast, but he can't be too slow either. He thrusts up into his hand a couple of times, panting softly before leaning down and looking at the chat box.

There are so many things he wants to try, but he's easy, and he knows that. A viewer brought up the topic of nipple clamps, and god, if he didn't almost come thinking about it, then he's definitely going to come the moment he puts them on, so that is definitely a no.

Another viewer humorously tells other people in the chat to shut up; that Luke should use his clear jelly "tentacle dildo" that the same fan delivered to his fan mail. Don't get him wrong, the first time he heard the words "tentacle dildo" his face contorted into that of a, well, there's not really a phrase that completely encases how he looked,  but when he tried it out, he swore it was the best decision he ever made, and fuck did it sound great right now.

"Guys, relax, I promise you'll love what I'm using today. Even more so because you'll get to see me fucking myself with it." Luke says, gripping his thigh softly with his hands, in desperate need of some kind of touch. He reaches over, slowly—tauntingly, and finally shows off the thick and long toy. It has some bumps up and down the side and is curved and thin at the top, but widens out at the base. The first time Luke used the toy, it hurt. No sugar coating it. It hurt like a bitch, but the second time? He was ready. He had prepped both himself and the toy and it stretched him so good and had him gasping at how full he felt. He didn't even have to bounce on it to get off, it was so deep that rolling his hips did the job perfectly.

He liked a challenge. He thought actually fucking himself with it would be a good idea, and boy was he right.

20 minutes later, he's a moaning panting mess. He just came 5 times and he's so proud of himself because when he looks up into the camera he looks like a fucking mess. A filthy, slutty, drooling, lethargic mess. And he loves it. He's getting more money than he's ever had and he's shaking. Tears are streaming down his face, but they're the best kind and he's so overwhelmed and thankful because when he's like this everyone in the chat is so sweet to him aside from occasional creepy elder. he's so close to coming again, when he reads a comment from a certain stranger who comments "you are the most beautiful boy I've ever laid eyes on, come undone for me, honey."

And he does. He comes so hard he sees stars and he's almost positive he woke the whole apartment complex up but it was worth it. It was so worth it to him. And when he looks back in the chat box he's elated to find that the stranger had donated 1000 dollars to him. He thinks he's gonna pass out.

\--

Embarrassingly enough, he does. He only "wakes" when he hears a loud noise outside. It wasn't for more than a minute, according to his watch, but he's overwhelmed and shaking. He looks up into the camera, his face red as a fire truck, before softly breathing out curses. People are still watching him, still praising him, calling him sweet filthy names. He gets up, walking to the camera and laughing breathlessly before saying his apologies and clicking out. As he gets dressed in his loungewear, the comment from before still rings in his mind.

It shouldn't matter to him that much; he knows that. This isn't some fan-fiction where the main character falls for a guy who's comment is the exact same as about 10,000 other comments. But maybe it could be, he thinks. He can't help but fantasize about him, to wonder what he looks like behind the screen and he hopes that he's around his age preference. He smiles softly to himself, his eyes fluttering shut and his mind droning off to thoughts of the stranger.

\--

He wakes up earlier than he would've liked to, with ideas on his mind. He's been considering a certain idea of his for quite a while now, but it has always seemed "cringy" to him if he could even call it that. Before he considered (and finally went with) being a camboy, he came up with the thought of obtaining a sugar daddy. Growing up for Luke was hard. Growing up not knowing when your next meal was or when your parents were coming home was even harder. When he finally got the chance to become more than what he ever was, he clammed up.

High school came around and he couldn't afford to pay for lunch, and though he was morbidly underweight already, it apparently wasn't enough to please others. At 115 lbs as a 5'9 male going through the strobes of puberty, he was called fat and/or unattractive more times than he can count. Sure, he still had some "baby fat" but it was barely there and for the longest time that's all Luke could see. When he got the chance to eat, he'd decline; giving his food to his younger siblings, so they'd have more in case they were hungry later. 5 weeks later he'd collapsed. He was rushed to the hospital where the doctors diagnosed him with Anorexia Nervosa. He had weighed 90 lbs.

He was on fluids and a feeding tube for weeks. He had learned the hard way that you simply cannot please everyone. It took years of intensive therapy to overcome his fear of calorific foods, but 5 years later and he is completely confident with himself as a person. He's at a healthy weight and he absolutely loves food and tries new things every week. He's grown to particularly love the many features of his body, his curves especially. There's no doubt about it, his arse is what made this show of his possible. Round and perfectly full, Luke loves everything about it. Although another thing he's grown to appreciate is his stretch marks. Growing up, he never understood how people could hate such a sign of health. Stretch marks are inevitable and they showed progress and growth, quite literally. He's thankful for the marks on his body, thankful to finally feel human. 

 


	2. Chapter Two

It's been a week since the altercation, and Luke is bored out of his mind. He's not "working" today; he'd much more willingly binge some Netflix and order take-out. The problem is, though, that he doesn't want to do it alone. A friend to hang out with would be nice, but his all seem to be occupied. The blond sighs, settling on having a "me-time," kind of day.  
  
He gets up, dresses, grabs his keys and walks out the door, immediately being met with the bitter cold. Walking through the layers of snow to his car, he can't help but be discouraged; he feels lonely.

It's an odd time to come to the realization, midway through scraping the ice on his windshield, but it hits him anyways, and he just can't shake it off. Not while he's driving, not while he's paying for gas, and not even when he grabs a quick snack at the store.

Sometimes he feels like his job is a way to help him cope with the crippling loneliness, but he's reminded that what he does genuinely makes him happy. He's a pleasurable view for those across the world, and maybe it's wrong for that to make him happy, but it does.

He leaves the store, less lonely than before and with a grin on his face. The blond comes to the conclusion that he wants to have a movie night, just by himself, and that he needs an extra large pizza with a Slurpee and a popcorn bucket with enough butter to give him cardiac arrest.

Luke drives back home, content with the time spent outdoors. No matter how much he says he despises nature, it gives him peace of mind at the end of the day.

As he pulls into his driveway and walks up the creaky wooden stairwell, his mind wanders back to what he should do in the following week. He has somewhat of a routine with his work, but he's been a bit busy paying overdue bills and counting and saving money for emergencies.

His apartment is warm, but not warm enough and he doesn't want to risk turning the heat up higher as to avoid the possibility of his heating bill increasing to an unaffordable cost.

He stumbles over to his couch, tripping mercilessly over the abundance of dirty clothing scattered across the floor. The blue-eyed boy grabs his tattered quilt blanket and curls up on the sofa, patiently waiting for his well-deserved pineapple bacon pizza and garlic buffalo flat wings to be delivered to his door. He's a quarter of the way through when the knock on the door startles him, causing him to jump.

Realizing that the pizza must be here, he jumps up, speed-walking towards the door and flinging it open with the strength of all the gods combined; okay, with about as much vigor as a 5-year-old, and smiles, dimples and all.

"Hi! I assume you're delivery?" The blond teases, digging in his wallet to pull out a twenty.

The man just stares, mouth agape.

"...No? Alright then. Can I at least have my pizza and wings or is that also a no-go?" He smirks, eyeing the stranger who can't seem to look away.

"I-I uh, s-sorry, your bill is $15.08; cash only, please." The older manages to choke out, looking like a deer in headlights.

"Problem, sir..?" Luke crosses his arms around himself, consciously.

"No! I-I uh, I mean, no. I just... y-you... uh, online..?" He deadpans.

Oh.  
Oh.

Luke blushes. Well, how's that for meeting a patron for the first time..? Awkward.

"Oh, great. Um, yep. That's me. 100% me. Not... a doppelganger..."

The awkwardness is killing them both. Mystery Man is beet red; stumbling over his words and dropping coins, and Luke is just...still. He would've never imagined it to be this way; it's almost satirical. Lost in the moment, he lets a laugh slip.

Mystery Man jumps up and shoves the pennies into his wallet, and coughs as if to suppress the thick tension flowing through the air.

"What's so funny, huh?" The stranger asks, defensively.

Luke snorts and covers his mouth quickly afterward.

"Nothing, it's just... wow," Luke starts, before smiling and reaching out to touch his arm. "Thank you for the pizza... and for watching my show." Luke grins a goofy grin, blue eyes gleaming with happiness. He runs his hand up and down the stranger's arm, looking into their hazel orbs. He feels the goosebumps rise on his arms and smirks, triumphantly.

"Fuck..." The man whispers, a shiver running up his spine. "You know, you're a little tease; you do this with everyone who knows?"

"You're the first one I've met. Besides, only the cute guys."

Luke knows this is escalating quickly, so he pulls his hand back down to his side and grabs his food. The stranger sighs internally at the loss of the blond's hand on his arm; cool breeze the only indicator that there ever was a hand encasing his bicep in the first place. He goes to close the door but stops.

"What's your name, stranger?" Luke asks, grabbing his hand.

"Ashton." The man, Ashton, replies a light blush dusting his cheeks.

"Well, Ashton," the blue-eyed boy starts, grabbing a sharpie marker from the dirty-blonds pocket "consider today your lucky day." He writes down the 10 digit number on his wrist and closes the door, sending a wink to the man.

As soon as the door closes, he whispers a foul "Holy fucking shit," before carrying his food into the living room and going to town. If this wasn't some cliche book, then he didn't know what was.

"Really? The delivery guy? You've got to be kidding me..." Luke shakes his head at himself, smiling.

Maybe he'll give him a shoutout during his next show. Do a little extra just to toy with him. He likes that idea. The more he goes through the timeline of what the hell just happened, the more he starts to think.

What if that man is the same one who Venmo'd the money? No. Impossible. Plus, a delivery man barely makes enough tips to support an apartment, let alone donate $1,000 just because they like to watch a pretty boy fuck himself. Maybe he could have a side job?

He sighs, leaning forward to grab a slice of the greasy pile of heaven. He sips his cream soda slowly, reveling in the feeling of fizz dancing in his mouth.

-

A mere two hours later, Luke has retreated to his semi-broken bed, happy to be done with the day, when his phone vibrates.

He can't help but be giddy seeing a text from "Unknown Number," and smiling when the text reads "Hey its Ash."

He replies immediately.

"Hey :-)"  
"Ash: Wyd?"  
"Call me and find out ;-)"

Not long after, his phone rings. He picks it up and brings it to his ear, grinning.

"Well hi there, stranger," Luke smirks, though Ashton can't see it.

"Hey," Ashton replies.

"So... you watch my show, hm?"

"Possibly."

"Well, next time I do one maybe I could give you a shoutout but right now..? Right now I could give you a personal show." He presses the Facetime icon and waits the split second it takes for Ashton to accept it.

He's so thankful he does because what he sees in front of his is breathtaking.

Ashton is shirtless, his hair a wet mop on his head but he makes it work, and toned. Unbelievably toned.

He mumbles out a foul "Fuck," biting his lip at the sight of the pretty man. "You look so fucking good, Ash." The blond practically whimpers, wishing he was in his arms and the only thing on his mind.

"Yeah," Ashton teases him, flexing his muscles just to hear the sharp intake of breath Luke makes. Loving the sounds.

"Yeah." Luke whines, wanting to move his hands lower, wanting to relish this moment. What he wants, actually, is for Ashton to fuck him into the mattress so hard he can't walk for weeks, but he's too shy to ask him that, doesn't want to speed things up too fast.

"What a pretty baby you are, hm, Lu..?" the hazel-eyed man praises, watching the skin from his neck to his chest turn a shade of red.

Meanwhile, Luke is caught up in the feeling of praise, loving the nickname that Ashton picked out for him. He's been called Lu his entire life, but with Ashton, it's just different. He can't even begin to explain how good this man makes him feel already, and it terrifies him.

"Yes, Daddy.." Luke tests the waters a bit with his comment, hoping that he didn't just screw this chance up.

Ashton stays silent for a few seconds before uttering a torn "Fuck, baby," and Luke almost cries, out of pure joy, thanking all of the gods above that it worked out.

Luke can see Ashton's hand moving, and quick. Can see the way his abs are tightening from how fast he's fisting his cock and he almost comes close right then and there. The sound of Ashton panting in his ear is better than any lyrical masterpiece he's ever heard in his life, and he never wants to turn the volume down.

"Got a filthy little mouth on you, princess, can't wait to feel what it's like on me," He moans loudly, fucking up into his hand and Luke has never wanted to suck someone off more in his life. In a moment, Lukes shirt is off, and his spandex shorts are down to his ankles as he gets himself off leaking precum and loving every second of it.

"Who says y-you're gonna feel it at all, Ash? I'm not a whore," Luke tries at a comeback, but he knows Ashton is right. The thought of the tan man's dick in his mouth has him needier than he's ever felt before. He really is a whore. He wants Ashton to call him a whore.

"Yes, you are. A slutty, sweaty, red-faced, mess of a whore. Look at yourself, you're practically begging for a cock in your throat. Getting off like it's the last day on earth. God, I'm lucky to see you like this."

That's what sends Luke to the edge. He comes so hard he sees stars and swears he's in heaven. When he finally rides out his orgasm, he looks down to see Ashton; a sweaty, panting, red-faced Ashton, hand covered in cum, and he almost dies.

"Jesus Christ, Luke." Ashton huffs, wiping his hand on something out of frame (Luke hopes its a Kleenex).

"S-Sorry..?" He questions, not sure if Ashton's comment is positive or not.

"You like humiliation don't you?" The hazel-eyed man questions.

"Maybe," Luke says, blushing.

A game of 20 questions ensues for the next couple hours.

Ashton asks Luke if he's going too fast, to which Luke replies that it's a possibility, but he doesn't really care that much because he's the one who started it. Ashton decides to slow down a little, still.

Luke finds out that Ashton does, in fact, have a side job; he co-owns a local bar with his best friend, Calum Hood. The blond boy adds that his own friend, Michael, is obsessed with said bar and probably Calum, too, now that Luke thinks more about it. He'll definitely need to have a talk with Michael later. From favorite liquor to favorite TV show to favorite color, Ashton and Luke talk infinitely.

Sooner than Luke would've wanted, however, Ashton has to rest (and so does Luke) so the latter hangs up, taking his time to say goodbye to his not-so-stranger anymore. Today was the best day Luke has had in a long time, and he's scared to say that he's falling this fast, yet it's happening, and there's no way he can stop it. He falls asleep with thoughts of something more on his mind. Something better. Something like Ashton.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Ashton have their first date. 
> 
> !!!SMUT WARNING!!!

A text from Ashton that says "Meet me @ the Wallzy Cafe when you see this xx, Ash," has Luke waking up to a happy start and his heart positively exploding. Until he realizes that he's going to see him in person, unprofessionally, except it will be professional because this is Ashton and even though he's not at work they're in public and-

The blond panics, and quickly dials the older man's number, tapping his thigh anxiously. He waits for Ashton to pick up on the third ring before he starts rambling through the phone.

"Ashton, I have no idea what the hell I'm going to wear. Like, I know I'm wealthy-ish (sort of) but 90% of the money I make is going to charities and my college education, because, I don't want to spend my cash on fancy shit. I don't have enough money to do that, Ash." The blue-eyed beauty stumbles over his words, whining in a way that has Ashton utterly starstruck, "I'm stressed and is this like a date or something? Because if it is I need to look my best and I-" Ashton interrupts him with a soft laugh.

"Luke, It's only a date if you want it to be a date. I can send a friend over to help you get ready if you don't mind," He starts, quickly adding that the friend is, in fact, Calum. He doesn't want the blond to get too anxious with mention of an "unknown" coming to help him.

"Ashton," Luke sighs, massaging his temple to curb the start of a brutal headache that he knows is going to happen.

"Lu," Ashton mocks back, smiling to himself when he hears the younger whine into the phone.

"I-I don't know what I want it to be." He looks down, suddenly interested in his pink slippers. "Hell, I don't even know what I want us to be. I think I regret what I did. But, I don't? It's just," He huffs, defeatedly. "I think maybe I went too fast. I mean, the first thing I did when I met you was flirt. Of course, I think you're unbelievably attractive, but what I did was impulsive.

I whored myself out to you because I was desperate to have someone. That doesn't mean I don't want to be with you, God, don't get me wrong, but what I did wasn't necessarily because I liked you. It was me being selfish and wanting you for your looks rather than your personality. I got excited. But now? Now I regret it more than anything." Luke pours his heart out, explaining everything. The blond is shaking with anxiety by the end.

"Lu, precious, listen to me. The fact that you had enough courage to explain yourself to me proves how deserving a person you are. You're wrong though. Maybe, in that smart little brain of yours, you think you 'solicited' yourself out to me. Well, it didn't feel like you did. People flirt all the time. People have one night stands all the time. Fuck, Luke, people get pregnant from them. What you did was not unusual. You did something normal, Lu Bear."

The blond blushes caught off guard. "It has everything to do with me being a camboy. I had skype sex with the first person who saw my show. That's why I feel like a whore."

"Listen, Luke. I don't care about what you do to get money. That's your business, so don't be worried about that. How you make your money doesn't make you a whore. It makes you damn brave. Sex workers deserve so much more respect than they get. You worked your ass off to get where you are right now.

You deal with a lot of people. What you do in your free time doesn't make you a whore. That's for people who want to ruin lives with the shit they do. It's not your fault if Peter watches your show, while his wife Karen is out picking strawberries. That's his problem.

We've been talking for a week already? From what I know, you're the most wholesome person I've met in a long time. If you need a break from this, then take it, Cherry. I'll be waiting for you."

Luke gapes. "What time do you want me to be there again? For the date?" the freckled boy adds slyly.

"Around one-thirty PM. Oh, Calum's outside by the way. See you there, sweetheart."

The call ends, and Luke smiles softly to himself, bounding downstairs to let this "Calum" stranger inside.

He opens the door slowly and gapes at the man in front of him.

Calum Hood is fucking gorgeous.

He's dark, tall, and handsome. His arms are covered with tattoos, and his face looks like it was chiseled by gods. Luke wonders how he hasn't found someone already. According to Ashton and Michael's knowledge, he's single.

"Am I at the right place? Are you Luke Hemmings?" The raven-haired boy counters, his lip curled upwards in a soft smile.

"I, um, yeah. You're... Calum?"

"In the flesh," he chuckles, bowing playfully. "I heard from a friend that someone doesn't know what to wear on a special date, so I came to help. You don't know me well, but you will."

Maybe this Calum Hood guy isn't that bad at all.

—

Oh, it's horrible.

Maybe not that horrible, but Luke doesn't remember the last time he was sweating this badly. He's tall, lanky, and changing into so many clothes that he can't catch his own breath.

"Cal, no offense, but if I have to try on one more-"

"I found the one! It's your size, and you're gonna love it. I promise."

The blond is about to cancel the date and just bathe in his bed of hopeless dreams when Calum turns around holding a pair of skinny's, dress shoes, and a black button-up shirt, designed with red roses.

Luke loves it. He thanks Calum many times before trying it on. He buttons the shirt, leaving the last two open, and checks himself out in the mirror.

He looks great. He knows he looks good.

After Calum leaves, not without giving Luke his number for any other "inquiries/services," he takes a shower, showing off his best "American Idol" impression.

He questions whether he should straighten his hair or leave his natural curls, deciding on the latter option. It would look good with the outfit, he tells himself. It's not because Ashton told him his hair was pretty.

—

The moment Luke walks into the cafe, he can feel a particular pair of eyes staring at him.

He glances around the place, searching for a certain someone when he catches him.

The hazel-eyed man is sitting alone in a booth by the far right side, tapping his foot on the reflective floor anxiously.

"Ash!" The blond exclaims, walking over to him, eyes shining with happiness.

His eyes shoot up, and he smiles brightly, looking Luke up and down.

"Wow. You look amazing Luke." He looks up at the curly mop on Lukes head and smirks, his ego growing by the minute. "You left your hair alone." He states, aware of the fact that Luke has said multiple times that he hates his natural hair.

"Shut up. You told me you liked my curls." Luke grumbles playfully, sliding into the booth facing him.

"I do. I have a thing for men with long, flowing, curly, blond hair."

Luke blushes. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me; it's all you. You and your beautiful smile, and pretty button nose." The sandy-haired man giggles, the best sound Luke has heard in a while.

"My nose?" Luke raises a brow, amused.

"It's perfect. I know girls who'd kill to have your nose."

"I don't really consider it my best quality, but I'm glad to know someone does. On the topic of, I adore your dimples."

"My dimples? They're my least favorite part. They're just huge craters in my face, how can they be attractive?"

"Same question I have for your love of my nose. I don't, I just like them. They fit your facial structure."

They talk for hours, laughing, crying, and sharing their entire life story. Even after the annoyed manager kicks them out for being loud, the date doesn't end. Quite honestly, Luke doesn't think he wants it to.

They walk through a park and stop to go on the swings, more due to Lukes excitement than anything else.

("Ashton, Oh my God, I haven't been on the swings since grade school, we have to go. Please?")  
("Oh, fine, but you'll remember why you stopped using them the moment your ass hits the seat." Ashton was right.)

Luke can't stay in the swing for long before his thigh is hurting from the metal chain digging into his clothed side, but even the twenty minutes the swing allows him is enough for the blonds satisfaction.

He scrapes his shoe against the sandy dirt to slow himself to a stop and looks over at Ashton. He's smiling right back at him, and he looks so happy that Luke wants to run over and kiss his face. So he does.

He lurches forward off the swing, stumbles clumsily over to the bronzed man, and kisses him with as much fondness he can muster up in his lean body. Ashton stumbles back, not quite ready for the weight of the blond, but pulls him closer, nonetheless, and returns the kiss.

"We're in a park." He deadpans.

"So? We're just two people kissing. Nothing too bad. I've found used condoms sneaking through this area before." He blushes, then looks down. "Sorry for not asking before I kissed you. I didn't think to ask, I just saw you, and you looked so happy and pretty and-"

Ashton shuts him up with a kiss, and Luke can't refuse.

("My pretty boy, you never have to ask to kiss me. The answer is always yes.")   
(Luke starts crying.)

-  
"Fuck, Ash," Luke moans, arching his back and wrapping his legs around the older man to pull him closer.

It was just a goodbye kiss at first, but then somehow and someway, Luke ended up being pushed up against his entry door with Ashton's lips attached to his neck and a hand palming him through his jeans.

"Please, Ash, don't stop," He whines, rolling his hips up into the man's hand. Ashton smirks. "I thought you said you didn't fuck on first dates?"

"I change my mind, s-shit, I only want you. You're the only one who can do that, Ash, you know that-" The blond whines, grabbing frantically at the sandy-haired man's shirt. "Off."

"I'm sorry, I expect more manners from you. For you to just assume I'll take my shirt-" Ashton starts, loving the way the younger man huffs. "Please, Daddy, take it off. Wanna see you, please!" Luke gives, tugging harshly at the shirt, and how can Ashton say no to that?

He bites his lower lip, unbuttoning the shirt slowly before throwing it wherever and lifting the blond a bit higher.

Luke practically keens when Ashton grips his thigh, looking at the man with such lust in his eyes that even Ashton himself lets out a low noise.

"You're so fucking pretty, Jesus," He mumbles, kissing down Lukes neck and chest. He hums softly and swirls his tongue around one of Lukes taut nipples, and the younger man positively moans.

"Ash, enough with the foreplay, please. I'm not some soft, helpless angel boy-" He says kissing down his neck softly. Until Ashton yanks his hair and shoves two digits in his mouth, harshly.

"Mmh," The blond moans, surprised, but licks and sucks the digits anyway. He's not worried about prep, as his hole is pretty used to that by now; for some reason, his viewers like to see how far they can push his limits.

He hums softly, lost in his thoughts until he feels fingers prodding at his hole. He tenses and looks up at Ashton who's looking at him, awaiting permission. "As real men say, consent is my kink," Ashton smirks, kissing him softly. "God, you're ridiculous. In the best way, of course. Anyway, have at it, or in other words, please utterly destroy me."

He nods, searching his eyes for any sign of hesitance before slowly thrusting his fingers through the tight ring of muscles. Luke gasps at the feeling, pushing down against the long digits and stifling a loud moan.

"Nuh uh, babe, I don't think so. Let me hear those pretty noises of yours. Can't get shy on me now."

"Ashy, fuck, your fingers.." He moans.

"So I've been told," Ashton murmurs, adding another digit.

"Yeah, by me."

"And others."

"Oh, fuck you. But fuck me first. Ha, but fuck. Butt fuck. Okay, sorry." Luke snorts.

Honestly, what can Ashton say? Casual conversation during sex is probably the most wholesome thing he can think of.

He smirks, scissoring his fingers inside of the taller man, before pulling them out and wiping them on some random piece of clothing on the floor.

Luke whines at the feeling of being empty, arching his back just to feel Ashton's crotch flush against his plump ass.

"Hold on baby, let me lube myself up for you, okay?"

"Ash, it's fine, I've had-" He turns around and stops. "Oh. Holy fuck you're huge. I'm gonna love feeling that in my guts. Have fun with the lube thing, I'm gonna need it." He deadpans, turning back against the door. "Who'd have thought this is how I'm getting fucked?"

"I don't know, but, are you sure you want this? I can stop and easily take a cold shower and-"

"No! I-I mean, no. Please. I want this. I promise."

Ashton nods, gripping his ass and running a hand up and down his back, before thrusting in carefully. "You okay, baby?" He asks, staying still in case it becomes too much. "I'm okay. Keep moving."

He kisses him softly, rolling his hips against the younger man before gripping his hips and picking up the pace. He searches for the spot inside of the blond boy that he knows will turn him into putty, when suddenly Luke lets out an obscene moan, and Ashton knows he's found it.

"God, Ash, right there, fuck!" The blond moans, arching his back and slamming back against him.

"Oh yeah?" Ashton teases, just barely prodding at the man's prostate with the tip of his cock.

"You're so deep inside me, Ash, f-fuck me, fuck, Daddy, you're s-so big-" He moans, mumbling incoercible words. He's been fucked hard before (by himself too), but the way Ashton's fucking him is damn near indescribable. His stomach is bulging outward with how fucking long the older man's cock is, and he loves seeing it inside him.

"Are you close, baby?" He asks, thrusting harder into the blond.

Luke whimpers, clawing at the older mans back hard enough that Ashton himself actually hisses at the feeling of his nails. He leans down, sucking bruise after bruise into his neck, kissing over them lightly.

The variation of pinks and purples scattered across his skin makes him look like a galaxy. A nebula, Ashton thinks it's called. He takes a moment to admire Luke in all his beauty.

He's sweaty, red, and panting louder than a person who just got done running a 5K marathon. Ashton doesn't think he's ever seen anything more mesmerizing. He's in absolute awe of the man under him. "Luke, you're so fucking beautiful."

He just looks up at him with the most fucked-out expression he can muster. Technically, it means "so are you," but since Luke can't really talk, a look will have to suffice.

They're both undeniably close to their release, and maybe it's the way Luke looks at him the moment their eyes connect, and the way Luke's body convulses when he releases. Or perhaps it's the fact that Ashton has never felt so close to another being such as Luke (on more than a physical level), but he comes so hard that he sees stars; stars that would mold perfectly with the nebulae scattered around Luke's neck and chest. It's cliche to say right then, but to Ashton, this moment is something he's never experienced.

Luke feels the same way. He's full and leaking, absolutely exhausted, and completely and utterly wrecked, but he wouldn't have it any other way. It's not the right way to explain it, not even close, but he's reminded of the bond between a mother and newborn. A totally wrong and kind of creepy comparison, trust him; he knows.

He's not necessarily associating with the relationship itself, but more focused on the connection. Skin-to-skin contact creates an unmistakable bond between individuals, and Luke understands why.

There is no need for verbal communication. When there is a connection, it is noticeable for both parties involved. It's a spark of electricity, a moment when someone realizes that they want to associate themselves with a person for the rest of their life. It's what a soulmate feels like.

"Ashton..?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to stay the night?"

"I'm not just gonna leave you on the floor by the door, now am I?"

"You could."

"But I won't."

The older man pulls out, slowly, and grabs a towel from the kitchen, dampening it.

"Babe, can I clean you up?" He asks, carefully spreading the younger man's thighs. He nods, hissing at the feeling of the cloth on his sensitive parts.

Ashton apologizes, and Luke laughs, thanking him for helping.

"You don't need to apologize. But you do need to help me up because I am in pain, please, and thank you." Luke smiles, raising his arms up for the older man to carry him. Ashton obliges, pulling the taller man to his (very shaky) feet, and hoisting him up, arm around his waist. He walks carefully to Lukes room, rummaging through drawers until he finds an acceptable pajama shirt and boxers for him to wear. He dresses him slowly, kissing his forehead afterward. Luke hums and pulls him close.

"Goodnight, Ashton," He mumbles, curling next to him.

"Goodnight Luke."

The sound of Luke's heart beating lulls Ashton to sleep that night. It's the best sleep he's ever had in a while.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Lashton fic that ive published on AO3 And TheRES many more to come!! You can read more on my wattpad @babyboylukes whom I share with @/Babylonbaby also on wattpad! Please comment and leave suggestions and I’ll try my hardest to reply.


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